The Eyes of Sherlock Holmes
by WhiteGloves
Summary: The Watson's are abducted. Its up to Holmes to see how to help them and get rid of the masked man and the EYE. /Movie Based/
1. Case On

**The Eyes of Sherlock Holmes**

**_by: WhiteGloves_**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything~ My first Fanfic in the Sherlock Holmes Universe!**

**Enjoy! :)**

Dear old Mrs. Hudson opened the door of 221 B Baker Street when the doorbell rang.

"Oh dear, Doctor!" she gasped in relief as she recognize Doctor John Watson, "You came!"

"You called for." nodded Watson as he took off his hat, entered the facility, gave his cane to Mrs. Hudson and looked expectedly at the stairs toward the second landing. "Is he alright?"

"I have never known a man who never comes out of his room and still manage not to be alright." Mrs. Hudson hushed on as she led him upstairs, "I would not have bothered you at all, dear doctor, seeing that you are rightfully married now, but _he _is uncontrollable, as usual!"

"What's he done now?"

"Oh well- haven't you heard-?"

"I heard some… but I doubt it was everything, with a man like him."

They reached the third landing and Watson immediately reached for the doorknob. It was lock.

"He tried to burn the whole house down last night," the old nanny went on as she stood behind him, "But before that he tried sneaking around the house like a thief- he said it was to test if it was a worthy profession- I nearly lost my head of fright! And then there was before that he tried to roll himself down the roof top and said he was testing gravity because he felt it slipping by! Oh doctor- if you only knew-!"

"Believe me, I know." Watson cut off as he knocked now, "Holmes! Holmes open the door!"

Silence greeted his announcement. And then the doorknob unlocked with a click.

Watson looked sideways at Mrs. Hudson and smiled apologetically.

"Please, bring something… to enlighten him up."

Mrs. Hudson sighed and then nodded as Watson entered the dark room.

As he entered his eyes could just see the silhouette of some furniture from the darkness. There was a stench on the air likely to be of urine, there was also a smell of gas leaking, paper burning, and to the doctor's dismay a smell of a dead animal. He hoped Gladstone had survived the ordeal.

On the corner of his eyes, the doctor saw something move. He looked on his left and saw his old friend sitting by the fireplace with his back on him.

"Watson." said the familiar husky voice.

"How long has it been since your last case?" the doctor asked as he stepped inside and headed for the window like his usual routine a couple of months ago. "Haven't enjoyed yourself in a while?"

"I believe the mystery of the world has long since left me." Holmes answered without looking up, "And do stay out of reach of the window, I kind of like the mystery inside this room."

"You and your mystery." Watson sighed as he went to the next window and opened the curtains. Sunlight hit the room and Holmes shouted in outrage as it found him. He knelt on the floor and crawled toward the back of a chair. The doctor watched his progress with a patient look. When the old detective had settled himself behind the couch did the doctor walked near him with a contemplative expression.

"Holmes." he started more gently as he stared at that brilliant person. "Why did you have to set the whole place on fire?"

For the first time that day, Holmes looked up at the doctor with his usual guiltless eyes.

"I did not. The nanny was exaggerating. I was merely trying to get rid of the coldness in this room. Accidentally it caught the curtain so I waited if the effect of the heat would be far greater than if I set the couch on fire. My experiment failed. Because nanny threw cold water all over the place."

"And she did the right thing." Watson nodded with his voice growing louder each word, "Holmes- I don't know why you are causing too much trouble in the past week, I don't even know if I want to ask if you're doing this on purpose! Oh wait- I am being too kind if I think that way, this is about you after all."

There was a whimper somewhere under the table. The doctor and the detective looked around and saw that Gladstone was whimpering with his eyes closed.

Watson sighed.

"You need to get a case." he said finally, "I never really think that you staying indoors would do anyone good. Have you seen the newspaper lately?"

"The nanny refuses to give me any, nor has she been here in this room for a couple of days." Holmes muttered carelessly, "Except probably last night but she was not carrying any newspaper, just a bucket of cold water."

"The newspaper has been flooding with different cases and the brilliant you should be spending his days solving them." Watson pointed out, "That is one of the greatest things in the world- it never runs out of problem."

"Problems too easy to figure out you mean."

"Maybe for you, and goodness knows how your eyes can see through everything, but not all people can see the answers the way you do."

"That is because they never look closely. They prefer complaining even if the answer is right under their noses."

"Right. And people would be grateful forever if you kindly lend them a hand."

Holmes merely looked sideways and didn't say anything. Watson raised his eyebrows. Mrs. Hudson entered the room with a tray of usual tea on her hands and a roll of newspaper under her arm.

Holmes and Watson looked as she came and set the tray down the table. The old lady looked kindly at the doctor, and then threw one disgusted look at the inspector. She then gave the newspaper to the doctor's waiting hands before leaving without a word.

"Well, that's an improvement." Holmes muttered as he raised his eyebrows and looked at the doctor. "So why are you here again, Watson? Aren't you busy playing house with 'Mary'?"

"Don't say Mary's name like how you address Mrs. Hudson, Holmes, or I'll swear I'll destroy your violin." Watson answered as he walked around the couch where the detective was hiding and scan the newspaper with a frown on his face.

"Ah." Holmes nodded as he too crawled around the couch, "Most intimidating statement you have said since the old days."

"Indeed." Watson found an article, "Have you heard about the abduction of the royal prince?"

"He's been seeking attention since his formative years and abduction is the only thing he thought worthy of his family's attention." Holmes answered promptly with his eyes searching the room for something. "He'll come out of his hiding place soon. I'll give it a week and two days."

Watson gave him a look and then continued his browsing. He found another one.

"What about the murder of the Duchess-?"

"She actually killed herself while attempting to blame the act to her husband who was swindling with other women. And I say _women_."

Watson shook his head but didn't say a thing as he finally decided to look at the front page that he's been neglecting for a reason.

"Then… the mystery of the missing eyes? Does that attract you?" he asked quietly as he watched for the reaction of his friend.

As he expected, Holmes looked up from where he was sitting and stared at the front page the doctor was nearly shoving on his face. The headline was clear: **_Second Body without Eyes Found!_**

"Ah." was his only word.

"I take it you are interested." Watson smiled as he gave the former the newspaper. He then stood up, took a cup of tea and sipped slowly.

"Interesting." he heard Holmes say as he absorbed the content of the paper. "This would take us to some degree of reasoning…"

Watson slowly lowered the cup from his mouth looking a bit grim.

"There's no _'we'_, Holmes." he turned slowly to his friend with that patient look of his, "Not for a very long time."

Holmes looked up at him in wonder and then slowly nodded.

"My apologies," he shrugged as his eyes bore down again on the paper. "But there is something good in saying 'us' rather than 'me'. If you know what I mean."

Watson decided to ignore the statement.

"I suppose Clarky would be raging in this apartment anytime soon."

"An interesting job if you ask me."

Silence filled the room as the doctor watched his friend.

"Holmes."

"Hmm?"

"I'd be going now."

"Of course. Give my regards to _Mary._"

Dr. Watson gave his friend another contemplative look, and then smiled slowly. After that he turned around to leave, but not after he made sure the Gladstone was not as cold as his last name was. He met Mrs. Hudson on the first landing and smiled at her encouragingly.

"He will be fine now, he's got a case." He told her quietly.

"Thank you for your time, doctor." Mrs. Hudson gave him his cane and top hat, "I do not know how to deal with him without you."

"Just let him breathe some air." Watson adviced as his eyes looked up on the second landing once more, "He needs something to busy that brilliant mind of his. That being said do prepare his clothes around, he tends to rip most of it when he's in a case. Also his revolver… he tends to leave it behind… do remember to check the kitchen every now and then when he comes and leaves, he always like to turn things on but forget to turn it off when he's at it. And Gladstone… would be happier if he's more conscious than knocked out every now and then."

Mrs. Hudson looked at the doctor with raised eyebrows as though she'd rather not do all of this on her own. Nevertheless she nodded and escorted the good doctor out of the door.

"You really do know him a lot, doctor," she said as she sees him outside the door. "I wish you could have a twin brother who'd look after him."

Watson smiled.

"Take care, Mrs. Hudson."

"Off you go, doctor. Mrs. Watson's waiting."

The doctor nodded and was about to turn around when he was met by the character of Clarky, the ever so busy deputy of Scotland Yard.

"Doctor, I wish to speak with Inspector Holmes. This is of real urgency- Inspector Lestrade wish to speak with him at once. " he said without breathing.

"Mr. Holmes is inside," Mrs. Hudson told him. "Don't bother the doctor!He does not go with the inspector anymore."

"Oh, right." Clarky gave Watson a curious look, "Excuse me, Doctor." and he disappeared on the doorway with Mrs. Hudson who bid Watson another goodbye.

With a nod, Watson turned around. It was funny how Clarky reacted when he was told Watson was not going with Holmes anymore. Admittedly he was surprised himself. That being realized, the doctor stopped just as he reached the stone steps, with his eyes tightly closed as if he was battling against his inner self.

"Don't…John… control yourself man." he told himself as he opened his eyes, "You're not foolish enough to hear the end of this case, are you? Your inspector days are over…"

He took a final deep breath, and then giving 221B Baker Street one final look, he raised his hand for a carriage to take him home.

*.*.*.*.*

"Sherlock Holmes is not taking the bait." A voice said in a semi dark room just above a very noisy pub.

"Yes he will." said another voice that belonged to a man who was standing near candlelight, the only source of light in the room. "It will not be long until the Scotland Yard would try and reach him. This is the second death after all."

The man near the door shifted on his position.

"If I may ask, my Lord, why do we have to involve Sherlock Holmes? The man's name is a trouble itself. Our proceedings are well off without him tracking our movements."

"Our proceedings have gone well and quiet enough in the past century for my liking." The man near the light answered, his fingers inside a black glove playing gently on the armchair. "It is time we add new humour in our movements. Sherlock Holmes is the perfect person to be added in the spice. His name is famous enough; I do not think it better if he dies without knowing our existence."

"But it is too risky." the other voice said sounding unconvinced, "Sherlock Holmes is someone not to be underestimated."

"I think it is you who's underestimating me."

The man suddenly shifted again.

"I'm sorry my Lord, I meant no offense."

"Then be quiet and bring him to me. We will not only expose our great existence in the world, we will expose it with Sherlock Holmes dead in our name."

The candlelight beside him flickered, and for a second it revealed the appearance of the man sitting next to it. The man was wearing a leather mask that covered his whole face. His eyes were as black as the darkness in the room.

Back in his house, we see Holmes staring at the window with a blank expression as he listened to Clarky who was talking behind him. After a few moments he nodded and then took his coat from behind a chair.

The case was on.

**-TBC-**

_**Thanks for Reading ^_^**_


	2. The Eye

**Chapter 2**

**So far so good~ let's roll! :)**

Holmes stood beside the body of a woman in the city mortuary with a lost look in his austere gray eyes. He had been examining her for the past minutes since his arrival and the longer he looked, the longer the crease on his eyebrow deepens. Behind Holmes stood Clarky and Inspector Lestrade. They too have been standing there since they escorted the detective to enter.

Another minute, and then Holmes emerged from his thoughts and looked inquiringly at the Scotland Yard people.

"Well, Holmes?" Inspector Lestrade started as Holmes walked near them, "Found any clues?"

"That being asked then yes I did, though I might have found what you have already found. She had her eyes removed and she's dead. Quite the obvious, isn't?"

Lestrade gave him a look of impatience and at the same time flushed red on his cheeks.

"But-" Holmes continued as he saw the danger sign, "It would probably interest you to know that she died of poison- mere smell of cyanide irks my senses. That is the only difference of her death with that of the first body of a man who shared the same fate of having his eye sockets emptied. Also it would seem that her eye colour was of brilliant blue, I wonder if this has anything to do with anything at all."

"Of course it has," Lestrade said with a nod, "We have a criminal on the loose that's after eyes of different colour- maybe for collection purposes. The first victim seemed to possess a pair of green ones. Now we must do something about this, Holmes. The public's on panic they think there's a threat out there ready to rip them off their sights-"

Holmes gave Lestrade a frown.

"I do not think of such. I think the death of the man over there was not a planned murder and the removal of the eyes was only as an afterthought, like a woman's last touch to her crochet. Now this body here… does not have much to tell which means it was an intended murder, but for a reason… taking off her eyes to look the same as the first disposed body. As the question we should all be asking is 'why' I'd very much like to know the reason for the murderer's second act…" he seemed to be talking to himself now.

"What of the identity?" Lestrade continued after a short pause from hearing the detective's deduction. "The man we are able to recognize as a baker from Southford Hill. The woman on the other hand eludes our-"

"She's a chamber maid from North east, working near the Grand hotel grill by the smell of her sleeves that give me scent of something being roasted. Her hands were also very clean and roughly used so she must have done a number of chores. And that is the only place where they have roast beef with a very strong spicy flavour for anyone but my liking."

Lestrade looked at Clarky and then nodded. Holmes eyed the two and then turned quietly around as if he just remembered something that he must do without saying a word to the other men.

"Where are you going, Holmes?" Inspector Lestrade called all of a sudden.

"I'm off to work, if that is not so obvious." Holmes called as he raised a hand and bid the two an unceremonious farewell.

*.*.*.*

Watson arrived home at Cavendish place shortly after his visit to Baker Street. He was greeted by Mary who came from the living room as he was hanging his top hat on the stand near the doorway.

"Dear, how was your visit with Sherlock?" Mary asked as she accompanied him to the living room where they sat on the sofa. "Is he alright?"

"Never been better." Watson replied as he smiled at the lovely wife, "I gave him a case to set his mind at ease."

Mary smiled at him too.

"Then if your old friend is at ease, would you also be at ease now?"

Watson stared inquiringly at her as if he doesn't have inkling as to what she was saying. Mrs. Watson smiled quietly at her husband and then touched his arm.

"You cannot hide it from me. I am aware that you were very upset when you've heard that he tried to hurt himself once again."

Watson sighed as he slowly nodded at the deduction of his wife.

"He likes an eccentric life, that man. Imagine rolling out of the roof top for gravity-?"

"I know." Mary touched his head gently, "And whenever he is like so, you tend to become really worried. I think I now believed what he meant when he told me you were his 'mother hen'."

Watson chuckled.

"Luckily I know him well enough to believe that he would not hurt himself unnecessarily for he is indeed very fond of himself. But it worries me that his curiosity would get the best of him. Sometimes I actually see him dead before me."

"He won't be." Mary assured him as she kissed him on the cheek, "He is a fine man…over on his own head."

"Indeed." Watson turned to his wife again, "I also worry of what will happen in the earth if Sherlock Holmes were to disappear. I expect it would be a very dull one, full of crimes unsolved."

Mary held the eyes of his husband with a smile playing on the side of her mouth.

"It is true," she muttered wisely, "You are very fond of him."

Watson chuckled once more.

"If I hadn't been I would have left him the first time we met, dear."

"Then why not go and come with him, I do not mind too much as long as you return home for dinner."

"Oh no, I am a family man, my dear." Watson gave her a weak smile, "It is righteous that I stay with my lovely wife than with the ever so messy detective."

"Your words, my love, but I know your heart and I know that it would always follow him to the ends of his adventure."

Watson gave her a warm smile and they share a kiss.

*.*.*.*

Sherlock Holmes looked up the pub where he found himself in moments later.

The pub was crowded and the stench of alcohol was strong. Holmes almost smiled at this.

"The smell of that very alcohol reeking in this very place," he told himself as he found an empty table to sit in. After a moment of observing the place, Holmes took out his cigar and lit it. He smoked it for awhile and then said, "Do you think I would not notice the game you are playing?"

He eyed the person suddenly sitting with him on the same table. The mysterious person was wearing a black cloak with his hood on, his face hidden in the shadow. Holmes blew on his cigar with his eyes transfixed at the man.

"You have good eyes, Mr. Holmes." said the hooded figure.

"You have no idea." Holmes answered calmly. "I have seen enough to tell you who you are."

"Indeed?" the hooded man chuckled and tilted his head on his right side. "Who am I?"

"As to who you are, you are a resident of this very pub, judging by how neat and almost unruffled your cloak is, you never came from the outside. You work for an underground organization dealing with drugs and you recently came from the west, judging by that different accent of yours and that huge amount of cocaine hiding beneath your cloak. I can very well see it from here as though teasing me from above all the smell in this place; its scent is the most seductive to me. Your organization is unknown to everyone judging by that symbol on your crest, an eye? You want people to recognize you. And you did those two crimes only to… correct me if I'm wrong, to lure me out of my sanctuary? To tease me on this game."

The man in the hood did not say anything but merely sat there in silence as though in awe. Holmes smoked on his cigar again and then said after awhile,

"My apologies for startling you, but your business with me are so clearly seen that I find it almost a waste of my time. Though I can tell you that I will not let you go anymore, seeing as you murdered already two of the citizens under my protection."

"Impressive." The mysterious guy said nodding a little, "It is indeed foolish of me to have shown myself in your presence, detective."

Holmes nodded.

"But I worry not about you not letting me go." the man in the hood said after awhile.

"And what makes you think I would not arrest you?" Holmes asked almost testily. He had not yet finished the question when he noticed some people stir from all the side of the pub and heading directly toward his table. "Ah." He muttered as he raised both his eyebrows to heaven.

The guy in the hood leaned on the table to him.

"I would ask you to be patient, Mr. Holmes." he said in a very deep voice, "and that you continue this game we are playing. But since you almost know about our organization, it would please my master to think that it is time for you to serve your purpose."

"Meaning to kill me." Holmes blew his smoke calmly as his other hand caressed his cane beside him. "I understand everything perfectly. Are you also going to rip my eyesight away?"

"Amusing." chuckled the man, "But I sense that you don't take our threat seriously anymore, detective. I suggest you change your mind about it, or we change ours."

"Instead of wasting time then why not jump directly to me?" Holmes raised his eyes at the man as he felt the movements of some people around going near. "That would save us both the trouble."

"I don't think the panic we have issued is enough, Mr. Holmes."

"Of course."

"Now, I wonder if you're familiar of that beautiful pair of eyes from Cavendish place. I heard a newly married couple reside that place and they bear astonishing colours. They would be the perfect couple to-"

Holmes jaw was set as he realized what the man was talking about and without further ado he toppled the table on the man's face and took out his cane. He instantly hit the man behind him who was aiming for his head, and then punched the guy on his left. The pub went on chaos as the fight issued. Out from the corner of his eyes he saw the man in hood stood up and hurried away. He was about to follow him when he felt a hand on his right ankle. He looked down and saw the guy he just hit holding on him like an octopus. He raised his cane and hit him unconscious and then made to follow the guy once more, but not before he felt a blow on his right side that made him dizzy. He fell on the floor with a thud. Looking up he saw the man who hit him with a bottle that shattered to pieces on the floor. With great effort, Holmes pulled himself together and kicked the guy on the middle. He was yet to follow the man in hood again when a strong smell of gas caught his nose. He then stood up and blended in the number of people going out of the pub.

He had not yet gone out of the entrance when there was a deafening explosion from the inside that threw him down the ground. The explosion was so strong that he could feel its heat setting him on fire. He protected his head as people around shouted, ran and cried. He felt something heavy fall on top of him and it was all he could do to stop himself from passing out.

He heard a number of siren, and after that there was no more.

**-TBC-**

_**Thanks for Reading ^_^**_


	3. My Case

**Chapter 3: My Case**

**This is movie-based. Both book and movie are amazing though!**

Dr. Watson came out of a cab to Baker Street and hurried on the steps off 221B. He knocked once and opened the door himself. Mrs. Hudson appeared by the second landing looking thoroughly aghast as she saw the doctor coming.

"Mrs Hudson." Watson acknowledged her as he climbed on the stairs and went pass the landlady. Mrs. Hudson followed the doctor in silence. The doctor set foot to the next landing and did not even bother to knock on the door as he pushed it open.

"Holmes!" he called as he looked around the room.

That was when he saw his friend sitting by the fireside and checking on the sleeping dog next to him. He had a bundle of bandage rolled on his head, and a couple more wrapped around his middle. The detective was wearing a white polo that covered the rest of the bandage around him.

Upon the call of his name, Holmes looked sideways at the doctor.

"Watson." he acknowledged as he looked back at the sleeping Gladstone and pat its head before standing up to greet his friend. "What a surprise."

Watson watched his friend and then gave a very long sigh of relief. Holmes watched him and then frown a little as he reached for a cigar on the next table.

"You seemed harassed, old boy?" he muttered as he lit his cigar.

Watson shook his head and stared at the detective in disbelief.

"And here I was thinking you finally meet your end." he walked around the room and then dropped himself on the next chair, putting his head in his hand in doing so.

"My end?" Holmes blew on his smoke and then looked at his injuries. "Ah, you mean this? These are mere contractions of me working on a case."

Watson looked at him quietly from the spaces on his fingers. Holmes walked around the room too and sat on the chair opposite the doctor's.

"What happened?" the doctor asked him in that brief silence.

Holmes blew on his smoke and stared at his friend.

"An organization with the symbol of an eye working in the darkness for a long time has decided they want to regain fame, thus by murdering people and removing their eyes they want their entrance into the world something to be remembered."

Watson gave his friend a long look.

"This is the organization you are facing?" he said after awhile with that frown of his, "People who burn down a whole pub and remove other people's eyes for a fascinating entrance?"

"That's what I said."

Watson looked closely at his friend. Holmes remained calm but there was a lost look on his grey eyes that made the doctor sure he was on his trend of thoughts again.

"Would you require my assistance, Holmes?" he said after a long pause and consideration. "Clearly these wounds of yours would have been less had I been there to aid you, don't you agree?"

Holmes did not say anything for a long while but Watson was sure the detective heard him. He was already planning to explain to Mary about his sudden change of mind about joining his old friend when Holmes stood up and turned around so that his back was facing the doctor.

"Holmes?" Watson inquired.

"On other occasion I would have gladly accepted the offer, doctor." The detective answered with the same straight voice he used whenever he was speaking the truth, "But right now this case is _my_ case. There would be no 'us' in this one."

The doctor blinked at the detective, and then frowned a little. It was sometime before he recovered from the shock, and when he did, he stood up and faced his quiet friend.

"Well, that's a surprised." he said in a rather forced calm voice, "I- I never thought you'd refuse an idea of working together again. Is your head hurt that badly?"

"These wounds are superficial." the detective answered as he remained looking on the opposite wall.

Watson did not smile now as his eyes looked at the haughty profile of his old friend.

"Alright, but do have me informed when you are hurt again. That way I can know if you are still alive. I only found out about your injuries because of the evening newspaper, I don't want to be informed that way again."

"Right you are, old boy." Holmes nodded.

Watson bowed, and then looked at his friend again. There was that sudden air around the detective that made the doctor somewhat uncomfortable.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" he suddenly demanded.

Holmes blew on his smoke, and then slowly turned at his friend to face him.

"Ah, now that you remind me- The Grand Hotel gave me a special treat for helping them solve the case of room 301 murder. They gave me the key to one of their prime rooms. Why don't you and Mary take it? I won't need it since I am wrapped up in this case. It's on the table next to your chair."

Watson looked at the table next to him and saw a golden key. He looked back at Holmes more confused than before. Holmes was watching him and then cut off whatever the doctor was about to say.

"Accept it as my present for the newlyweds. Of course I did not intend to not give anything to you at all but you were clearly serious-"

"Holmes-" Watson started as he took the key to his hand.

"-this is to show my gratitude for the many years that you've helped me. I suppose it was a worthy gift, or would you want another one-" the detective went on as he smoked.

"Holmes!" Watson nearly shouted in spite of himself.

Holmes paused and looked inquiringly at the doctor. "Yes, Watson?"

"What's the matter with you?" the doctor asked as he took steps toward his friend, "I have known you for many years, having shared the same house with you. I know you are holding something back from me- what is it that you're not telling me?"

Holmes silently smoked, and then raised his eyebrows up to heaven.

"I do not know what you mean." he muttered airily.

Watson looked at him, and then sighed in resignation.

"Fine." He muttered as he put the key on his side pocket, "I'll follow your instructions."

Holmes merely smoked again.

"But make sure you get out of this case alive, or I will kill you myself. Is that clear, Holmes?"

There was a pause, and then Holmes answered.

"Naturally."

Watson nodded.

"Now let me look at your wounds."

"Need not, you and Mary should be going soon."

Watson eyed Holmes once again.

"You're way giving too much importance that I and my wife should flee, it's almost suspicious." the doctor said as he looked over the detective's head injury with a frown. "Are we being threatened?"

"You get the hint." Holmes suddenly said as he raised an eyebrow to his friend, "Now go before they reach her or you."

At this statement, Watson's eyes widened a little. Holmes bowed his head and then gestured his hand on the door.

"It's your wife, old boy." Holmes said quietly, "Go."

Watson hesitated for awhile, and then with a final look, left the room in a hurry, leaving Holmes watching after him. Holmes looked over the window and watched as Watson called a cab and hurried away.

The detective blew a smoke, and then stared blankly at the window, lost in thought.

*.*.*.*

"He found out that much, did he now?" muttered the man in the mask as he sat comfortably near the fireside. "As expected of the 'Eye' of London. Nothing can go unnoticed with him. Now that he is aware of us, then it's time to press on the next plan… set the traps."

"It's already moving as we speak."

"Good. And before anyone can notice, Sherlock Holmes is already dead."

*.*.*.*.*.*

"Mary!" Dr. Watson called on as he entered his house, "Mary!"

He went to the living room and saw that knitted scarf by his wife left by the table. Looking around, the doctor saw the door to his office was open. Sighing, he went for it while calling the name of his wife.

"Mary-!" Dr. Watson stopped at what he saw. Mary was sitting on the chair he usually occupies with a blade pointing on her neck. A man was holding it threateningly before her.

"John..." Mary whispered with a worried look on her face, nevertheless she was calm.

Watson breathed and then felt someone point a gun on his back.

"Who are you people?" he demanded as two more men entered the room with their weapons.

"Tie him up and shut his eyes, we gonna be needing them." said the man with pale eyes.

Watson was roughly pushed to the wall and he felt his hands being tied from behind.

"Leave my wife out of this!" he said as the man behind him finished tying his hands.

"Shuddup. A pair of eyes like yours would send chills down London."

And the men gawked around. Watson caught the eye of his wife in the middle of this and assured her not to worry. Mary nodded a little as she looked transfixed at her husband.

"Move." The man next to Mary grabbed her roughly by the arm and pushed her to walk. Watson made to move but he too was roughly pushed by the door and they marched out of the house in the middle of the dark.

The Watsons were pushed down inside a carriage and the men waiting inside blindfolded them.

"What do you people want?" Watson asked as he protectively set his shoulders to Mary to shield her from their eyes. "I remember naught about having so many nemeses."

"Oh but doctor," hissed someone in front of him as they felt the carriage moving, "Surely you can blame your association with Sherlock Holmes in this?"

Watson did not say anymore and the carriage continued to move to carry them into their fate.

**-TBC-**

_**And off, Mr. Holmes! We're off! :)**_


End file.
